Riding the Wave (8 page)

T
hat had gone about as well as Tanner had expected it to. Something along the lines of dropping a nuclear explosion in his mother’s living room. Or like feeding her to sharks. His stomach churned so hard that he thought he might throw up. He hadn’t had this awful a feeling since that disastrous night in Tahiti when he’d first seen Mako’s mother.

His mom walked upstairs with slow, careful steps. She seemed a shadow of what she’d been a few moments ago. And he’d done that to her.

He’d have never told her at all if it wasn’t for Mako giving that goddamned interview, all to make trouble. Tanner’s guilt was a live, slithering thing. It turned his insides upside down. He’d carried these secrets for so long. He shouldn’t have had to be the one to see Eileen’s face fall apart when she heard.

If anyone should have had to deal with that, it was Hank.

The picture to the right of the stairwell was of Tanner and his dad, posing on the beach after Tanner’s first junior win. He’d managed to avoid looking at it all night.
Hank Wright had been a big man, even two inches taller than Tanner was when grown. At twelve, Tanner had barely come up to his ribs. But he’d been so ridiculously happy that he’d have a trophy that could go alongside his dad’s.

And it had. In the trophy case, right next to Hank’s early-eighties World Championship, because winning mattered in their family. It wasn’t there anymore, though. No telling where the shiny trophy had gone now.

His mom’s feet disappeared past the line of the landing, heading up to her top-floor bedroom. That didn’t mean he was off the hook.

Avalon stared at him. Her eyes were flat gray with something incredibly painful. How did she think he felt, huh? He hadn’t wanted to hold on to all this horrible stuff for a decade.

That left Sage. Except, by the time he turned around, she’d disappeared.

“Goddamn it,” he muttered.

“She probably went down to the beach.” He’d never heard Avalon speak so quietly before. She ducked her head, effectively hiding her eyes behind her thick fringe of bangs. The line of her plump mouth was a decided frown.

“Don’t blame her.” He’d be at the beach as soon as he could get away from this disaster. And Sage had always been a private person, prone to nursing her hurts in silence.

“Oh, I don’t blame
her
,” Avalon said, her eyes slitting until they were barely more than dark glimmers, even in the bright lights of the living room. “I don’t blame her at all. I blame
you.
”

He’d been expecting the blow, but that didn’t mean it
was any easier to take. His guts felt like they’d been stirred up, then smashed back in upside down.

“Of course you would.” He made himself shrug, since he’d expected it all along. But his mom’s condemnation had hurt more than he’d expected. More than he wanted it to. Adding a thick layer of scorn from Avalon tipped him over the line. He had to get the hell out of here.

He wasn’t going to stick around and listen to her crap all over him. No point in that. The fact that he managed to not slam the back door behind him had to be a win on some level, but he didn’t much care.

The night had gone quiet. Even the college kids had seemingly quit for the night. Only a soft breeze swished palm fronds. Tanner was halfway down the block, toward his rental house, when he heard another sound.

Footsteps shushing over sand-dusted sidewalk. He drew his shoulders back. He wanted to get home. It was kind of sad that a rental house would feel more homelike than the place he’d left, but at this moment he needed quiet. Somewhere that wasn’t totally saturated with thoughts and memories of his dad.

He didn’t need Avalon chasing him and rubbing his nose in the shit storm he’d unleashed.

But her hand wrapped around his forearm, no matter how he’d wished she wouldn’t. She was noticeably smaller than him, delicate-looking with her narrow shoulders and slim hips, but her grip said otherwise. She dug in with surprising strength, trying to drag him to a stop.

Plus, she had nails.

He finally stopped, but Christ, he didn’t want to look at her. He stayed where he was, fists deep in his pockets and his gaze locked on the bare inch of beach he could see at the end of the street. “What do you want, Avalon?”

“You think you can dump shit like that and bail?”

“What the hell was I supposed to do?” He spun on a heel. Since the moon was the only glow, her skin looked paler than normal. Almost ghostlike. It looked like it had when they’d been sitting on the roof together.

Going back to that moment would be nice, but it wouldn’t happen. Not after everything. The shock of seeing Mako in his mom’s kitchen had been nothing compared to the devastation he’d seen on his mom’s face. Just like he always feared.

“Was I supposed to sit around the living room and wait? Twiddle my fucking thumbs in case my mother decided to speak to me again?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” Her chin was tilted forward like a bulldog’s, filled with determined intent. Her mouth pulled into a small knot. “It’s called
being there
. For your family. Not that you’d have any experience with it.”

“I don’t need your crap, Avalon.” He turned again, stalking away. The reverberation up his calves said he might be stomping, but he didn’t particularly care. The shits given might be mighty, but not by him. “I’ve got enough to deal with.”

Her footsteps clattered along behind him until she drew up even at his side. The arms she swung had fists at the end. Who exactly did she plan to beat up? Tanner?

It wasn’t fucking fair. He’d been the one doing his best to keep the family safe in ignorance for years. But he’d known on some level that this day would come. His staying away had only drawn out the inevitable.

“What do you have to deal with?” Avalon said with a snarky kind of insinuation. “Oh no, you might not win the World Championship. Again. Whatever will you do? At least you’ve made it once.”

He slammed to a stop, neighbors and sidewalks be damned. “So fucking what? I’ve made it once. My name’s gone down in Wikipedia. That’s supposed to be good enough? I’m supposed to quit for the rest of my life?”

Her mouth gaped. “No. But I’d think sticking around for a night to discuss something important would be a little higher on your priorities.”

“I didn’t even want to tell them to begin with.” They were at the front door of the rental house. A tiny bit of sand-resistant grass clung to the ten-foot square between the sidewalk and the house. He always felt bad for grass planted in San Sebastian. Kind of a lost cause.

He fished keys out and unlocked the door. Inside was even darker. He’d forgotten to leave a light on. Again. Stepping in, he tossed his key ring into a bowl on the front table. A mirror showed he looked like shit.

He wasn’t nearly as young as he used to be. Just this side of washed up at thirty-one. It was a joke.

“Well?” He dumped the contents of his pockets into the bowl with the keys. He’d never much liked being weighed down. Best-case scenario meant he had only a pair of shorts and a single key. And his board. He was always on the move, which was exactly why he couldn’t have a girlfriend. Avalon deserved better, but he didn’t seem to be stopping himself. “You coming in?”

Her head tilted. She still stood outside on the front stoop, arms crossed over her chest. “Seriously?”

“Why not?”

“Maybe because you ‘don’t need any more of my shit’?”

“I don’t.” He curled a hand around the edge of the door, leaned his shoulder into it. “But I’ve got a plan.”

“You do?” Her very voice dripped doubtfulness.

“I’m going to take you out on the water. We’ll talk a
little bit, bitch a lot more. When we’ve both calmed down, we’ll come back in and take a shower. Together.”

She laughed, a short, sharp chuff of doubt. And shock, if he read it right. But she didn’t draw away. If anything, she leaned closer. Stepped one foot nearer, lifting onto the next step. “You think that’ll work on me?”

“Maybe.” He shrugged and smiled. “I know for damn sure it’d work on me.”

He needed the ocean. The clean feel of being in cool water after the sun was gone. During the day, golden rays made it easy to ignore or forget how cold the Pacific could get. At night, it went right down to a man’s bones and cleared him out.

Showering with Avalon—hopefully with more to follow—would only be the perfect capper.

He needed that kind of distraction, that pure feeling to blow out the noise in his head. Surfing gave him the same sort of rush, that oneness with his body. The kiss he’d stolen off Avalon earlier convinced him that she’d provide the same rush.

And he could make her feel good in return.

“What the hell does it say about me that I’m so tempted?” She stepped a little closer. Hovering in the doorway, she looked part wraith, part fairy. Something ethereal. Which made sense with the way she sort of floated over the waves every time he’d seen her surf.

“It says you’re human. That you know we’d be good.” Reaching out, he uncurled her hand from her bent elbow. Drew her closer.

Her fingers shook the tiniest bit in his grasp. He smoothed them straight, laced his fingers with hers. Once they’d locked, a weight slipped from him. Yeah, this was what he’d needed. Some sense of connection. Avalon tied
him to the earth, and made him feel a little more solid. He tugged lightly, and she came. Close enough that he could smell her again, the warm spice rising off her hair.

He kissed her. Softly. Lightly, his lips sliding over hers. She gave a quiet gasp and he only took it into his mouth.

Here, between them, there was no other shit. No other drama once he closed the gap. Everyone else could slide away and he could ignore them a little longer.

He needed this. Needed Avalon. If she didn’t agree, he’d be left alone with his thoughts. With the memory of the night’s strange ups and downs.

He tugged her hand, until they were snugly palm-to-palm, their hands one unit at their sides. Still he kissed her, flicking his tongue over her bottom lip.

When he drew back, her eyes were shut, her mouth still slightly open. Her chin tilted up as if begging him to kiss her again. With his free hand, he smoothed the backs of his fingers over her jaw. “Come in.”

Her eyes opened. In the white glow of the moon, they looked strangely dark. He didn’t like it. The one thing he was noticing about Avalon was how readable she was. Those eyes of hers gave everything away, always had. Even the first time he’d met her, when she’d been a too-young-to-notice girl, he’d seen desperation in her eyes. Thank God that emotion was gone at least. He didn’t want to feel like too much of a shithead. At least no more than he already was.

“Promise me one thing,” she said. Her voice barely carried to his ears.

“What?”

“It’s over in the morning. We go back. Shut it down. Family friends, photographer and subject. All the normal stuff is fine.”

He couldn’t help but touch the delicate line of her jaw again. She was like softness and determination all in one. “What’s tonight, then?”

“An escape. That’s all.” Her fingers locked on his, their palms sliding together. “I get tired of thinking sometimes.”

He took another kiss, this one fast and hard. His tongue swept into her mouth, stroked along the texture of her tongue. Mostly because he didn’t want to acknowledge how true her words were.

Pulling her forward, into the foyer, he kicked the door shut with a nudge of his toes. “Well, then,” he said. “We’ll make sure you don’t think, won’t we?”

T
he way Tanner looked at her was intoxicating. He made her completely dizzy, even before he kissed her with such sweetness. But she couldn’t make herself answer, not in words. She only let him pull her across the threshold. Maybe she’d leech sanity from him, a quiet moment outside the world.

Even as he pulled her toward the back of the house, she had nothing to say for herself.

He’d lined what was supposed to be the dining room with all sorts of boards. She didn’t even want to do the math on how much money it took to have that many surfboards lined up for use on a whim. For her, he tugged a Lost brand board out of a rack, then stacked it beside his at the back door.

When he pulled her into his arms, she went willingly, tired of feeling like she was letting him drag her through the night. If she was making this choice, she’d make it wholeheartedly and reach for it all with grabby hands.

The touches over her waist snuck under her T-shirt. Lowering his head, he nuzzled her neck. She stretched up, back, letting him have all he wanted. At the same
time, she curved her hands around his strong back. Sturdy. He seemed so solid. She could grab on for a ride and he’d never falter.

“Do you have a swimsuit?”

A helpless giggle slipped from her throat. Such a prosaic, ordinary question when she thought she might explode. The night had been too much. Too long, too many highs, and way too many lows that she couldn’t even think about. And here it was, past midnight, and she was about to go out in the water.

Insanity.

That she’d gladly embrace.

“I have one in my bag.” She always did. Being a surf photographer meant she had to be ready to jump in the water at any moment.

He spoke against the tender skin of her throat, his lips moving softly. “Put it on.”

“Yeah, let me hit the bathroom, and I’ll be right back.” Her hand was already digging in her side-slung bag, in the back pocket.

But just as her fingers touched the slick material, he shook his head. “No. Here.”

He looked at her. The dim light made his features blunter. His nose a little more crudely carved, the line of his brow deeper and heavier. A tiny splash of caveman in a handsome guy. “Change right here.”

The protest that rose to her lips was automatic—but it didn’t go anywhere. She couldn’t manage to say it. Her mouth went sand-dry and her throat clicked as she tried to swallow. “Here?”

He smirked at her. A tiny curl of his lips. The pads of his fingers scraped over her waist, above her hipbones. A shiver worked its way down to her pussy, from that
touch. He challenged her just by breathing, it seemed. “Yeah. Here. And I’m not going to turn around.”

She squirmed inside her skin. She’d always liked her body, for the most part. Maybe the inside of her thighs could use a little extra toning, but she didn’t do too poorly. Never in her life had she ever had a guy complain about her body. Not that she’d have put up with that for more than a nanosecond.

But all that had been in the moment. Mutual clothes-tearing and lustful groping. Tanner seemed to be asking for something else entirely. Something a little more demonstrative.

More open.

She nibbled on her bottom lip, but her hand went to the strap of her bag anyway. Drew it over her head.

Through it all, Tanner kept his gaze locked on her. On her face, not the motions of her body. The intensity combined with his wicked idea made her nipples bead up, tingling.

He backed up until he leaned against the dining table still planted in the center of the room. He wrapped his hands around the edge of the table, his ass barely seated. But for the casual position, he still looked focused. On her.

Heady stuff. Powerful. More of him going straight to her head and wiping out the rest of the mess strewn through the night.

Stripping out of her T-shirt and skirt became almost automatic. She moved fast, whipping her hair around her head as she yanked the shirt off. Standing there in her matching panties and bra was as hard as she’d expected. At least they were some of her cute ones: heather gray, but with bright blue lace trimming at the edges.

Tanner’s response was everything she could have hoped for. His breath hissed on an inward pull, his chest lifting. The parting of his lips made her think of where else they could go.

When she unhooked her bra, he stood up straight. She couldn’t help a teasing, mean cup of her breasts. Even her thumbs passing over her nipples sent a soft wash of pleasure through her center.

The panties she drew down her thighs were already damp. She had to swallow down her fear again. It was like getting inspected, in a way. Slightly cold, but in a way she couldn’t explain. Not a coldness of excitement, because the moment was incredibly hotter than any other experience she’d ever had. But being so bold took her out of her own head, so she hardly knew her own thoughts.

God, she’d been locked inside her own head for so long.

She might have been smirking a little as she tugged her bikini from the bag at her feet. And her ass wiggled a little, definitely.

How could she be blamed for it, when Tanner gave her such lovely feedback? The groan he let go went straight to her pussy. A new flood of dampness soaked her tiny red bikini bottom as she pulled it snugly over herself. She took her sweet time with the top. For the first time, she wished the slightly sport-bra-like top were smaller. She’d take the wish back the next time she was surfing, but for now, she wanted less material. Something a little sexier, so that when she cupped her breasts into position, more would show.

But Tanner didn’t seem to mind. His gaze darted back up to her face. “Now, that was mean.”

She smiled as she smoothed the bottoms over her ass. “You got what you asked for.”

“Fuck yeah, I did.” He grinned. Tucking his board under his arm, he led the way out the door and down the beach. The sand almost seemed to glow, shining white under the moonlight. It flicked up behind them in soft clouds.

There was something peaceful about the very act of walking across a beach. Soothing, like dropping down into a certain layer of her mind. One she liked a lot better than her normal frenetic pace.

They stood at the edge of the water, miniature white froth licking at their toes. Cold, despite the cloying warmth still in the air. Even the hard-packed sand held the chill of the water. The rhythmic roar of the surf was the only sound.

“The waves suck.” She let the fins of her board droop toward the sand. “One to two feet at most.”

“We’re not here to surf. Not this time.” He strode out into the water as if it wasn’t going to freeze his bits off. “C’mon. Don’t chicken out now.”

She’d never been out in the surf at night. There was a different cast to the waves. They were barely a surge topped with white froth, despite their relative lack of height. The light sparkled off the water in a straight line from where the moon hovered to their point on the beach. It felt different and yet similar at the same time.

Her heart gave a small tumble that wasn’t just in fear, but in anticipation as she watched Tanner’s back. The tiny muscles and ligaments there did shaky stuff to her insides.

She followed.

The water was damn cold. Once she was up to her waist, she flopped on her board and paddled the rest of the way. Tanner kept going, diving in past the small swells of
waves and letting them crash over his body. But he didn’t stop in the normal lineup spots for surfing, so neither did Avalon.

Eventually, he stopped. He sat up on his board, straddling it and planting his hands flat between his outstretched thighs. The water swelled and dipped, but it felt mostly flat. Because of the dark, the horizon was practically invisible. They were both alone together and adrift in a vast wideness.

The disconcerting feeling made her look down at her board. White, bright. Cleanly focused. She looked up again and that was quickly lost. But she breathed through the agitation, letting herself go free. And suddenly felt as relaxed as she’d ever been in her life.

Her feet dangled in the cold water, but she hardly noticed. She felt little. Small and overwhelmed by the world, but in the best possible way.

“This is nice.” The words felt pretty damn insufficient, but she’d never been very expressive. Not without a camera, at least. She’d need a very wide-angle lens to capture this moment. Or maybe she’d do the opposite and focus very closely on the dark, glassy water to demonstrate the blissful emptiness of that sort of darkness.

“It is.” Tanner looked up toward the sky, his neck a thick column that made her think about biting and licking. His arms stood out in stark relief, heavy curves.

“Do you ever surf in the dark?”

“Once or twice.” His gaze fixed on her. “Mostly I come out here when I want to be alone. Have some quiet.”

“But you brought me out here.”

“I’ve got dirty plans for you afterward, remember,” he said. The words were light, but she heard something else underneath them. A depth and caress.

Or she wanted to, at any rate. She had a stupid habit of that, though. Her mom had counted on it to break her heart more times than she could count. Being a twelve-year-old left alone for two weeks while Mom went on vacation with her boyfriend meant she was extra susceptible to hearing sincerity in voices that didn’t actually carry it. But with the Wrights, she’d learned to actually trust.

And now the Wrights couldn’t even trust one another. The way Eileen had withdrawn upstairs . . . Avalon had never seen her quite that hurt before. Nor had she ever blamed Tanner like that for anything.

Avalon couldn’t let the family collapse. They’d always had problems, but she wasn’t going to let it go too far. Not this time.

She spread her fingers on the board, across the tacky surf wax and roughed-up grip. She didn’t want to ask, not really. But she had to. The words burbled up of their own will. “How long have you known?”

Tanner’s sigh was one of the saddest things she’d ever heard. “I’m guessing there’s no chance of convincing you to let it go.”

“You’ve lost your mind if you think so.”

“You keep saying that to me.”

She flicked water from her fingertips in his general direction. “I’m not convinced yet that I shouldn’t be researching the best lockup facilities.”

“You can be pretty damn mean sometimes.” But he didn’t actually seem to mind. He’d planted his hands flat on his board, bowing his shoulders into the move even as he looked up at the stars. “I’d think you’d be nicer to anyone with the last name Wright. Earn your place.”

A surprising flash of pain went through her at that,
even though he was obviously teasing. He was probably trying to distract her from asking about tonight’s revelations.

But that didn’t keep it from ringing true on some level.

The cold water swirling around her calves loosed a chill through her. She pushed a smile up to her mouth, though not a big one. Just that tiny bend that said she didn’t care. “How long? Spit it out.”

“What if I said flat-out that I didn’t want to talk about it?”

“Then you wouldn’t have brought me out here.” She kicked gently until her toes touched the back of his calf, behind his knee. The ocean made his skin slick, but she could still feel the light hairs. “You’d have taken me up to your room and we’d have stayed there until neither of us could see straight. But you wanted to talk first.”

“You’re sure of that.”

Of course she was. It was what she did for all the Wrights. She listened, let them vent. Took their problems on herself. It was part of being a family, as near as she could tell. She paddled her board, twisting until she was right next to Tanner.

He carried a particular warmth that emanated from his skin, despite the dark and the cold water and the licking breeze. Something solidly comforting. She wanted to tuck along his side and bury her face against his ribs.

Instead she touched his knee, cupped her fingers over him. “Tell me, Tanner. You’ll feel better for it.”